Pipedreams In Rigged Polity

After doing a cursory study of the goings-on in this wonderland of ours, apart from going through chapters of lived experiences in the course of his 25-year career, yours truly has concluded that ours is a country of formers, the Bhutpurvas, with not much space for the newbies, from newspaper columns to vital bodies of the state, unless and until you happen to be the kith and/or kin of powers that be. 

While writing these lines, the Bhutpurva (Bhupu) hotels and lodges of the western hill districts of Gulmi and Palpa come to mind. These lodging and boarding facilities borrow their names from service personnel, who served in India and other parts of the world in their prime, fighting others’ wars on others’ orders in other-lands, mainly because successive regimes of different hues and shades that ‘ruled’ our country after the Anglo-Nepal War of 1814-16 did not bother to mobilise those bravehearts for the protection of the country and her peoples. 

This is not to say that a chronic inability of successive generations of Nepalis to see opportunities in our ancestral land and the infallible ability to see rivers of milk and honey flowing in other lands are not to blame. The problem goes well beyond poor eyesight. 

Still, one can take solace in the fact that the retired service personnel and their families have been doing something for the ancestral land by running businesses like these and engaging in social service and community development activities.

This chapter from history and the continued exodus of Nepali youths in search of jobs all over the world, including for enlistment in the Russia-Ukraine war, shows, once again, that hungry people are easily led. The celebrated poet, Bhoopi Sherchan, has likened us to the coins of a carrom board (carrom ka gotiharu) who move only when the striker strikes, describing us in general as humans with higher faculties but empty and Nepal as a country of rumours. If he were to live in this day and age, would he be less scathing of this race? Perhaps not. 

Would he still describe us as a people whose courage comes from a lack of intellect? Most probably.

Back to the Bhupu accommodations. They offer a relatively luxurious stay for the boarders, most of whom happen to be from the above-mentioned Bhupu community, during their monthly visits to the district headquarters to collect pensions and an opportunity to recount the ‘good ole days’.

Other than a contextual mention, these Bhupus, who burnt their youths in the jungles of Borneo, Burma, Malaya, the Falklands, Kashmir, Shimla and other warfronts to eke out a living for themselves and their family members, leaving corrupt lots of different hues and shades to plunder the country, are not the topic of today’s contemplation.

Let’s talk a bit about a different strain of Bhupus, who have been hogging the headlines of late. 

These Bhupus include retired (but not tired, of course) bureaucrats, securocrats, former chiefs and members of constitutional agencies, retired spin doctors of government mouthpieces, and the like, and you ever wondered why yours honestly did not mention politicians in this list? This is because, barring a handful of exceptions, politicians do not retire, as their lifelong presence in our executive and legislature shows. As things stand, the word ‘retirement’ does not exist in the manifestos of different political parties.

The problem with an upwardly mobile strain of the Bhupus (please do not put all Bhupus in one basket), with ready access to the corridors of power in Singhadurbar, Baluwatar, Dhumbarahi, Budhanilkantha, Sanepa and much beyond, from the shores of Senne to the Thames to the Hudson to the Yamuna, is that they do not bother to cool their heels even after ‘running’ the country for 30 years or thereabouts, thereby defying the rules of the relay race where you hand over the baton after running a particular stretch. There are charges, not without substance, that a clique engages in a setting with senior politicians, making favourable decisions to land important positions in constitutional bodies and beyond post-retirement. 

The state can greatly benefit from the diverse pool of human resources selected through reasonably fair service commissions, such as the Public Service Commission, within the civil service. By introducing a cooling-off period through legislation that bars these people from joining constitutional bodies post-retirement for two years, how does the government plan to fill up vacancies in these bodies?

By appointing foreign experts in sensitive organs? Yours truly knows not; perhaps the government does. Will this legislation prompt the retired bureaucrats to seek employment opportunities with foreign agencies? If yes, what impact will it have on the country?

Who knows better than our competent government under such a learnt prime minister?

Still, there’s no denying that constitutional bodies and public enterprises have become Bhartikendras (recruitment centres) that always have positions vacant for retired bureaucrats well-linked with the top brass of major political parties, all at the expense of deserving candidates bereft of such connections, from bureaucracy and beyond. 

In summary, Nepal needs an undistorted, transparent, and accountable vetting process for selecting the cream of the cream in our constitutional bodies, which is but a pipedream in a rigged polity.

(The author is a freelancer.)